The winner takes it all
by Chapin CSI
Summary: GSUST. After Unbearable. Chapter 1: Drama: Sara tells Catherine that Sofia has enchanted everyone, even Grissom. Chapter 2: Humor. Catherine tries to keep her guys from falling under Sofia's spell. Note: I need another ABBA song to inspire me!
1. First chapter

THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL

I used to hate Catherine (I felt there was too much of her private life in the show) and then along came Sophia…Yeah, I hate her, and for now, I hate Grissom too.

* * *

Catherine Willows closed her office. She had just pulled a double shift and she was dead tired, sleepy even. And hungry. She knew she could muster the energy to drive home, but the thought of having to get something out of the fridge to cook… it was too much. Going tothe dinner across the street seemed was a better idea. She hadn't had breakfast there since she had left the night shift and she felt a little nostalgic all of a sudden.

She was crossing the parking lot when she saw Gil Grissom walking towards his car. She wondered if this might be a good time to talk to him. She hated to think that their friendship might be cooling off.

A breakfast invitation might just do the trick.

It was then that she noticed that he was not alone; Sophia was walking beside him.And just beyond them, standing beside their cars, were Jim Brass and Greg Sanders. Sophia said something, the men nodded eagerly, and after a while, they drove away. Apparently, the four of them had the same destination in mind.

Shrugging slightly, Catherine crossed the street and entered the dinner. An old song was playing...

_The winner takes it all_

_The loser has to fall_

_It's simple and it's plain_

_Why should I complain._

_Does it feel the same_

_When she calls your name?_

Catherine rolled her eyes when she heard the song. This was about the only thing she did not like about this place. The owner had a weakness for music from the seventies - the sappier, the better.

She picked up a menu from the counter and was making her way towards her favorite booth when she realized,to herutter disappointment, that it was already occupied, and by none other than Sara Sidle. That is, Sara and a pile of books spread on the table.

_Well, shit_. Catherine sighed impatiently. Sure, her anger had somehow abated since their very public fight a couple of weeks ago, but there was no way in hell she was going to share a table with Sara.

_I understand_

_You've come to shake my hand_

_I apologize_

_If it makes you feel bad_

_Seeing me so tense_

_No self-confidence_

_But you see_

_The winner takes it all_

She turned to leave-

On the other hand, why should she be he one to leave? She was hungry, she was tired- and it was her favorite booth. Let Sara leave.

Catherome turned back and for a moment she wondered how to approach Sara, who was reading a book. Or pretending to.

Catherine noticed the way Sara was holding herself up: her shoulders were straight, her chin was high in the air... but her eyes were down. It was her '_I'm not crying, I'm not crying, no, I'm not, I'm not_' look.

Catherine walked deliberately towards the booth.

"Do you mind?" she asked, bracing herself for an angry retort, or by Sara simply picking up her things and storming out.

To her surprise, Sara barely glanced up before quietly pushing the books to a corner of the table to make space for Catherine, and turning her attention back to her book.

Catherine hesitated, but just for a moment. She sat down and tried to read the menu, but there was something bothering her.

She just _had _to ask.

"Where are the others?"

"I don't know." Sara muttered.

"Funny." Catherine said and paused until Sara looked up, "I have the feeling that you _know_ but you _don't want_ to know."

Sara didn't comment.

"Actually…" Catherine said, "I kinda saw them driving away. Together, I think."

"They're having breakfast at Sophia's place." Sara said after a moment.

"Oh? Even Grissom?"

"Yeah." Sara said airily, as if it didn't bother her.

Catherine knew better.

"And you didn't go?"

"Oh, no," Sara smiled bitterly, "I had other plans"

"What, drinking black coffee at a dingy place like this?"

"If it's so dingy then why are you here?" she retorted.

"I miss their Big Breakfast." Catherine shrugged, "Remember how Warrick always ordered one and we stole bites from it?"

Sara looked up, but didn't comment. She hadn't seen either Warrick or Nick lately and it was yet another thing that bothered her today. She missed them.

She turned her attention back to her book.

"So, Sara." Catherine said after a while, "Why didn't you go with them? Was it a guys-only invitation?"

"I just didn't want to go."

Catherine waited a moment before speaking again.

"She's quite a popular woman, isn't she?"

Sara's jaw stiffened a little, but she didn't answer.

"But she's not popular with you." Catherine added knowingly.

Sara wished Catherine stopped trying to draw her into a conversation. She hadn't expected Catherine to actually _talk_ to her, and Sara admired her for having the guts to do it. But it was making Sara uncomfortable. Catherine knew her too well; and Sara had the feeling that the older woman knew just how upset she was, and was giving her a chance to talk about it.

And, oh, she wanted so much to vent her feelings –her anger, her pain- but not to someone who knew Grissom.

Sara was debating what to say, when Catherine spoke.

"I don't blame you," Catherine mused aloud, "Me, I wouldn't like to have her in my shift." She admitted candidly. "I like my guys to be focused on me."

"She's smart," Sara said simply.

"She must be. I never saw anyone get so popular in so short a time."

"She knows how to approach everybody." Sara said, "She knows how to blend." And suddenly, she couldn't stop talking, "When she talks to Brass, she acts like a gun's moll, and she acts so tough she practically out-brasses Brass. She has Hodges wrapped around her finger, and she's even been inside Greg's apartment while I don't even know his address." She hesitated before adding, "She uses quotes and erudition with Grissom.He likes to be challenged, and she does just that. He even repeats her phrases, you know? He follows her lead-"

"Wow." Catherine was stunned, "What about you? Has she tried to approach you?"

"Once." Sara admitted, "She told me something about how she didn't deserve to be mistrusted, but I didn't care much for her little 'we're women, we're sisters,' speech."

"She's a woman for all seasons." Catherine said thoughtfully, "Well, she _better_ not come after my guys," she muttered.

"She won't," Sara said quietly, "She has her hands full now." Sara looked at Catherine. "She and Grissom-" She bit her lip to avoid saying the rest.

"She and Grissom, what?" asked Catherine.

Sara simply looked at her.

"Are you implying-" Catherine asked, "Oh, come on…You're not serious!" Catherine said, smiling incredulously." She kept her eyes on Sara, waiting for some punch line or some sign that she was joking, but Sara didn't add anything. "How can you know?" Catherine challenged.

"I've known for a while." Sara said quietly, "I think I knew even before _he_ did."

"But Sara… you can't know for sure-"

"Oh, I know my Grissom," Sara said, smiling faintly. However, the words she used spoke of possession and she knew she didn't have any right to use them. Her lips trembled for a split second, but she took a sip from her coffee to cover up for it.

Catherine would have laughed if this wasn't Sara telling her all this. Sara wouldn't lie about it. Catherine knew what Grissom had meant to Sara, or at least she had guessed the scope of the young woman's feelings for him. If Sara said this was happening, then it had to be true.

"And the worst part," Sara said suddenly, "It's that he keeps asking me if I'm ok –'Sara, are you ok?' " she said, mimicking Grissom, " 'Sara, how are you doing?'. And what am I supposed to say? How the hell does he think I feel? I mean, I could answer with the truth and tell him that he's breaking my heart, but of course I can't say that. I've always been too honest for my own good. So I say, 'Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry, I'm doing ok', which is all he wants to hear, anyway."

Catherine didn't say anything. Right now there were no words of comfort that could help.

Sara took a deep breath to calm down.

"And yet... deep down…" she started, "I think I understand, you know?"

"You do?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah." Sara said. She closed the book she'd been reading and picked up another. "She makes him laugh." She said simply. She opened the book and examined the index before closing it. "She's…" she tried to search for the right word, "she's uncomplicated, I guess. She does all the right things." Sara smiled bitterly, "I mean, there are things that I'm sure she would _never_ do. For instance, she would never cry her eyes out while telling him the sorry story of her life," she said slowly, "She'd never put him in a position where he has to plead for her so she keeps her job; and I'm sure she'd never put him at odds with one of his best friends," Sara finished, looking pointedly at Catherine. "Me, on the other hand-" she shook her head in disgust, "Tell me something that one isn't supposed to do at the lab, and I bet I've done it."

She took another sip of her coffee, but she winced as she did so. The coffee was getting cold.

"So, you're ok with this?" Catherine asked after a while.

"I'll be fine," Sara said, and then she closed her eyes. "But right now I feel like hell." she took a deep breath and then she looked earnestly at Catherine, "Do you think I was delusional? Was Grissom _ever_ attracted to me?"

"Sara," she sighed, "Look, there's something you have to understand about men-"

"I'm not talking about men," Sara replied, "I'm talking about Grissom."

"Grissom's a man, Sara!" she said, rolling her eyes, "See, that's a mistake you've made all along. You see Grissom as a genius who keeps his heart behind a fence, or a lonely, tortuous soul… and sure, he's all that; but first and foremost, he's a man. And men, they like simple things. They fart, they scratch their privates, they like their TV loud, their whisky straight-"

"And their women loose." Sara finished.

"Exactly." Catherine nodded, "If you lay your life down some guy's doorstep, he's bound to freak out. And Grissom… you can put him at a crime scene armed with only a couple of q-tips and he'll find a way to get all the evidence needed to solve the case; but talk to him about feelings and he won't know what to do. I suspect this Sophia has the right idea about guys: she puts them at ease, she says all the right things, and when the time comes, she opens her legs first and her heart later. You, on the other hand… you just open your heart until it bleeds. Not very smart."

"Sorry," Sara said, a bit angry, "I never learned to play games."

"No, honey, you never did." Catherine smiled sympathetically, "You're honest, and you tell it like it is. That's scary for men. Men like Grissom… _wounded _men like him, they need someone to take care of them; preferably someone who'll tell them what they want to hear. They like their truths with peanut butter and jelly, while you… you like your toast plain. Slightly burned, even."

Sara couldn't help but smile at the metaphor.

"So, what you're saying is that I'm too honest. I already knew that," she said. Sara looked down at her cup of coffee. "I wish _he _had been honest with me. At the beginning, I would have taken it. Instead, there was this… ambivalence. I thought he only needed a little time to make up his mind. I thought in the end he'd be able to fall in love. Now it turns out he _can_ fall in love; he just can't fall in love with _me_."

Catherine snorted noisily.

"You think he's in love?" she scoffed, "Oh, please. He's just _in heat_."

"So?" Sara retorted, "I'd take that."

Catherine laughed, and in the end Sara chuckled. But her sadness prevailed.

"I feel that I finally have no reason to hang around." She said, "I used to think that I was the only one who could love him and that if I left…" she shook her head, "God, I shouldn't be talking like this, it's pathetic." She looked accusingly at Catherine, "And you shouldn't be listening. Why are you listening, anyway? You're supposed to be angry with me."

"I am." Catherine retorted, flashing a hard look, "I don't think I'll ever forget what you said, Sara. But there's something I've understood just lately- That fight you had with Eckley… you didn't do it just for yourself, did you? You did it for him. You were standing up for Grissom."

Sara held Catherine's gaze.

"He didn't ask me to do it," she said firmly, "It was my decision." She looked away, "I don't think he's ever _asked_ anything from me..." her voice trailed off.

They were silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry." Sara said quietly, "You know," she looked up, "for blowing up like I did."

Catherine looked at her, and then she smiled.

"Nah. You're not sorry."

Sara was going to insist but she smiled too.

"You're right. I'm not. I mean, I am, but I'm not. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Catherine said. "It does. You're glad you stood up for your ideas, but you're sorry that I was the one who got in your way."

The waitress approached them, but Catherine shook her head. They needed a little time alone.

"Hey, I was thinking," Catherine said, trying to lighten up the mood, "Why didn't you go along to Sophia's place? You shouldn't let her have the guys all to herself; you should give her some competition!"

"Nah." Sara said self-deprecatingly, "That's not me."

"Sara, hey," Catherine said, and she waited until Sara looked up, "You've been a good friend to all of them. Don't ever let them forget it. In fact… you're the kind of friend _I_ would want by my side in times of trouble."

Sara smiled a little at this.

"What are you going to do if or when he comes back to his senses?" Catherine asked suddenly.

The question surprised Sara.

"I don't think he…" she started, but then she shrugged and scoffed, "Oh, after all this I don't think I could take him back."

She was bluffing; she knew it and Catherine knew it, but for a moment it made her feel as if she had absolute control of her life.

"Catherine," she said then, "Is she better than me?"

Catherine hesitated.

"She's smarter in certain situations-" she started.

"And I'm way too honest." Sara finished.

"Hey, look; if being too honest turns him off, then he deserves to be with a dishonest woman, and there's nothing you can do about it." Catherine said callously, "Don't even try to apologize for him, Sara. Ok?" she waited until Sara nodded, "Now. I'm famished and I'm sure that black coffee has opened a hole in your gut by now. Want to split a big breakfast with me?"

Sara smiled.

"Sure. Are you paying?"

"What?"

Laughter bubbled in Sara's throat.

"You have the big bucks now. Besides, I was suspended for a week, remember? That means I had a pay cut." She paused, "And it was all your fault"

"My fault? Ha!" Catherine scoffed, following Sara's lead, "It was you and your big mouth that proved to be your undoing, Ms. Sidle!" She opened her purse and took some change, "Order the big breakfast while I put some suitable music."

" 'I will survive', right?" Sara teased.

"Hey, that song got me through a nasty divorce. Believe me, Sara: listening to it saves a lot of therapy money."

And for a couple of hours, they ate and talked and forgot their troubles.

The end


	2. Chapter two

THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL

part two.

Yeah, chapter one was sad and angsty, but I thought I could make the story a bit funnier.

* * *

Catherine ran up the stairs, taking two at the time whenever she could.

She had to get there before it was too late. She hadn't taken Sara's words about Sophia too seriously, but she believed in taking precautions. She knew that Sophia always took a coffee break at this hour, and she knew that Nick and Warrick were somewhere in the building. She had called them, but they had turned off their cells. _That _in itself was a bad sign...

Catherine breathlessly entered the lab and, ignoring Mia's and Greg's greetings, ran towards the break room, hoping that her guys weren't there- But when she entered the break room, she realized it was too late. The three of them were sitting at the table, cozily chatting over cups of coffee, and Nick and Warrick were listening to Sophia as if she were the wisest woman in all creation.

Catherine dusted herself off and entered the room, trying to appear calm and relaxed.

"Nick? Warrick?" she said.

The guys barely nodded at her. They were listening as Sophia told them how she had solved a case early in the morning.

Catherine didn't say anything. She had too much class to start a catfight just like that. First she needed to get her breath back. Then, she needed to get Nick and Warrick out... After that, she could make no promises.

"Wow," Nick was saying, "So, the guy hid the evidence behind the CD boxes? What made you look there?"

"Well," Sophia said, shaking her long mane, "I have to confess that I looked at the boxes merely because it was a jazz collection. I love jazz."

"You do?" Warrick asked, perking up

"Oh, yes." she said dreamily. "Jazz is food for the soul."

Catherine narrowed her eyes as Sophia gave a detailed description of what jazz meant to her.

'Oh, please,' Catherine scoffed to herself. 'I bet she said the same about punk rock, Entomology, and tango, to Greg, Gil, and Jim respectively-'

"By the way," Sophia said, gazing at Warrick, "I heard that you play the piano. Have you ever gone to the Oasis Jazz Bar on karaoke night?"

"Uh, no."

"Oh, you should. I sing there every Friday."

"You sing?"

Catherine rolled her eyes. This Sophia was shameless! Who did she think she was fooling, for God's sake? She was dishing out bullshit by the bucket…

"Great!" Warrick was saying, "I'll be there next Friday, then. We'll jam, me and you-"

Catherine's jaw dropped. Apparently,Warrick was eating _it _up.

"Warrick?" she asked as calmly as she could.

"Uh?" he reluctantly turned his gaze away from Sophia. "Oh, hi, Boss."

Catherine tried to keep her voice calm.

"Don't you have to check out that lead that Brass gave you, Warrick?"

"Oh." he hesitated, "Yeah. Well." he looked back longingly at Sophia, "See ya next Friday, then."

Catherine kept her eyes on Warrick until he was out of sight.

Satisfied that he was out of danger, Catherine turned her attention back to Sophia, only to discover that she had Nick's complete attention now. Sophia had apparently lived in Texas and was telling him all about it. She was even talking with a little accent!

Nick was hanging on to her every word.

"Nick," Catherine said. "NICK." She repeated, loudly this time.

"Uh?" he looked around reluctantly.

"You're still on the clock," Catherine said dryly. "The case I assigned you won't solve itself, you know."

"Uh." he blinked, "Yeah." he looked longingly at Sophia, "Well. See ya later."

"Sure, hon." She said amiably.

There was an uncomfortable silence after Nick left.

The two blonde women cautiously appraised each other...

And then Sophia spoke.

"So, Catherine. I heard you used to be a dancer."

"Yeah?" Catherine belligerently stuck out her jaw. "So what?"

"I was just wondering-" Sophia shrugged.

"Wondering, what?"

"I was just wondering if you have trouble with your joints-"

Catherine didn't expect this.

"Oh?" she frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Sophia said, "I get little pains and aches now and then, you know. I mean, it's been years since I danced, but I'm still paying the price. I was wondering if you used liniment or something-"

Catherine slowly –and reluctantly- took a seat next to Sophia.

"You…" she did not want to ask, but on the other hand, how could she not? "You used to dance, too?"

"Oh, yeah. I used to take it all off in New York." Sophia said, sitting back in her seat, "Back in the late eighties. That's how I financed my studies."

Catherine hesitated. She didn't want to like this woman; she did not want to fall under her spell…

But oh, sometimes it was so lonely, being the only ex-dancer in all the building...! She never had anyone to relate to, so to speak!

She cleared her throat.

"So..." Catherine said.

Sophia smiled. There was a gleam of triumph in her eyes as she spoke again.

"Wanna trade horror stories about the old days?"

"Well..." A little voice was screaming, 'Don't, Catherine; don't, don't,' but she couldn't help it. "Sure." she said.

* * *

TBC...? 

I believe there can be a happy ending for GS, but I'm still ordering my thoughts...


End file.
